Grudge
by Macx
Summary: moviefic Story no. 10 for the Imperfection fic line. Ironhide can never trust a Decepticon, especially Barricade... or can he?


TITLE: Grudge  
SERIES: Imperfection, part 10  
AUTHOR: Macx  
RATING: PG-13  
DISCLAIMER: None of the characters belong to me, sadly. They are owned by people with a lot more money  
Author's Voice of Warning (aka Author's Note):  
English is not my first language; it's German. This is the best I can do. Any mistakes you find in here, collect them and you might win a prize The spell-checker said everything's okay, but you know how trustworthy those thingies are...  
FEEDBACK: Loved

The Decepticon was a thorn in his optics. Barricade's presence was a danger to everyone, especially the humans, and though Will had argued Ironhide was behaving like an overprotective mother-hen, the weapons specialist couldn't be swayed from his vigil.

Barricade had been the enemy and still was. He was a Decepticon, right down to his core programming, and he would never change his ways. That Jazz and he shared sparks, something sacred and intimate to Cybertronians, didn't mean anything. It could be just another plan to get them to drop their guard and be vulnerable.

As the months passed Ironhide started to develop a grudging respect for the Decepticon. He had respected him before as a warrior on the battle field. Barricade was tough; hard to kill, tenacious and vicious when fighting the enemy – the Autobots. He had killed many and he had seriously wounded even more, but he had never slaughtered out of the satisfaction it gave him. His victims had been out to kill him and it had been defense.

Still… he was a Decepticon.

"I don't care if Jazz thinks he's his other half, Prime! He's a slagging 'Con!"

"To share is the ultimate trust between two of our kind, Ironhide," Optimus replied calmly. "Do you think Barricade would open himself up to someone if that put him into danger?"

"Maybe he got something on Jazz," Ironhide muttered angrily.

"I've known about their sharing since before the war," Optimus told him. "There is nothing."

"What?!" the other mechanoid blurted. "You knew?!"

"Yes."

Ironhide stared at him. Optimus refused to add to his confirmation.

"So you trust him not to betray us?"

"Yes."

Again, no further explanation.

Ironhide flexed his fingers, curling them into fists.

"I don't trust him. I never will."

Optimus inclined his head. "That is your right."

Ironhide had left it at that. You couldn't argue with Prime when it came to such things. Maybe Optimus was too idealistic this way.

Still, sharing sparks… Ironhide knew that there was no faking it. If Jazz's claim was true that Barricade's spark had the same resonance, then the Decepticon was what humans called a soul mate to the silver Autobot.

Great. Fucking great.

Ironhide sighed at the thought. He was picking up bad habits from Lennox. He was starting to use human swear words.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

That Barricade saved Sam a few weeks later, brought him back to Bumblebee safe and sound, though a little shaken and thoroughly drenched, didn't help with Ironhide's dark thoughts. Add to that the revelation four months later that he had found the instigator of the attack and had ruined him with well-placed allegations and forged reports, and Ironhide didn't really know what to think.

Barricade didn't gain anything from helping Sam. The young human was still freaked out by him. Barricade hadn't tried to get into the Autobot base before and he hadn't tried it ever since the rescue. Or after his little campaign against Trent DeMarco.

Jazz had just shrugged and had claimed Barricade had been bored.

Bored! Ironhide would have laughed if he hadn't been gaping at the Autobots' second in command.

It was the sparring session a few weeks after that had Ironhide look at the Decepticon more closely. He had met the smaller mech in battle before and he knew how deadly he was. For Barricade to fight Jazz and both to come out looking like roadkill, it must have been a really bad argument. Having Barricade in the base, actually recharging in the base, didn't sit well with the weapons specialist, but he didn't fight Prime on it. Mainly because Ratchet had told him to stuff it and act like a grown bot, not like some whiny mechanoid fresh off the assembly line.

Ironhide caught Jazz right after recharge and from the wary expression on the First Lieutenant's face, he was expecting the worst.

"What happened for real?" Ironhide asked calmly.

He had no idea where Barricade was, if he was still recharging or had disappeared or was skulking around the base, but right now he wanted the truth out of Jazz.

"It was just a sparring," the silver Autobot evaded a direct answer.

"You can give that crap to Prime and get away with it as long as he doesn't catch you alone, too," Ironhide rumbled. "But I know this was more. What did he say?"

The blue optics dimmed. "The truth."

"That being…?"

Jazz sighed. "I lost my edge. I got soft, Ironhide. It was what killed me."

The last words sounded painful. Ironhide felt compassion rise.

"You didn't get soft, Jazz. You're still a warrior. Hells, Megatron almost beat Prime to a pulp. Sam had to save him. Do you see him moping around and getting his ass slagged?"

Jazz chuckled. "I know, I know. But when Barricade told me I had lost my edge, I wanted to prove to him that I hadn't. I could still beat him with an arm tied behind my back."

"That Con is one mean fighter, kid. Fast, furious and sneaky. You'd need more than your hands to even slow him down."

"Did you just compliment Barricade?" Jazz teased.

He groaned. "No! Where is the heap of junk anyway?"

"Left recharge early. I think he snuck out to finish somewhere he feels safer."

Ironhide ignored the pointed look. "He provoked you and you let yourself go, is that it?"

Another shrug. "Kinda. I think he wanted that. See me fight like that. Without any restraints. It was like before the war, when we were just…" He stopped. "Well, a long time ago," Jazz murmured.

The much larger mech studied his friend. "How long before the war did you know him?" he finally asked.

"Long enough. Ironhide, there's nothing false about him defecting, about what we share. Why can't you accept it?"

"Because a Con will always stay a Con."

"And I'll always be an Autobot. We're different, but we share something that can't be swayed to be Decepticon or Autobot. The insignia on the outside doesn't change the connection."

Ironhide regarded the other silently, then nodded. "Still don't trust him. Never will."

"I'm not asking you to. Just lay off the death threats."

"Now where's the fun in that then?" Ironhide chuckled.

Jazz smiled dimly. "It would at least let him recharge a little more."

"Noted."

They had arrived at the hangar entrance.

"Okay, I'll cut him some slack," Ironhide said. "But don't think I won't keep a very close eye on him if he ever shows up here again."

"It wouldn't be you if you didn't," Jazz replied. "Thanks."

"Don't thank me yet. I still believe this is gonna backfire on us."

"It hasn't in all the millennia we were on different sides," was the calm reply.

Jazz transformed and started his engine. He drove out into the dawn, the sun still at least thirty minutes from rising, and Ironhide watched him. There was no trace of Barricade, but Jazz would find him.

The weapons specialist went back into the base, deep in thought. Barricade was and would always be a Decepticon in his eyes. That would never change. Still, he had to give it to the guy, he had started to change.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

Barricade stretched like a large cat, his spark expanding and contracting, then settling next to the one that pulsed softly.

::You didn't have to leave:: Jazz murmured lazily.

But he had had to. He could relax more in the middle of his former comrades, knowing they would more likely kill him than Ironhide ever threatened he might, than stay at the Autobot base.

::You're still not fully recharged::

He knew that. Sixty percent was rather low. He could fight with less, but it wasn't advisable.

::'Cade?::

He acknowledged the other with a soft grunt.

Jazz flowed closer. He had met up with Barricade behind some old warehouses and was as close as he could physically get. Their sparks were even closer. Right now they were almost meshed together.

::I appreciate what you do:: Jazz murmured.

::I do nothing::

Jazz sent a smile. ::Yeah::

Barricade couldn't help sliding deeper into the sharing. It was the most relaxing, safest and calmest experience he knew. It was complete freedom. No wariness, no guards up, no expectation of pain or violence or betrayal. Jazz embraced him, held him, and he felt his physical body lock in recharge mode.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

Jazz watched his companion as Barricade dropped into recharge stasis, trusting him.

Trusting him. He smiled. He would never betray that trust. And maybe Barricade would learn that he was safe within the base, too.

One day.


End file.
